


Echoes of Summers Past

by frek, sova



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Art, Collaboration, Cuddling & Snuggling, Holding Hands, Illustrated, M/M, Summer, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1674860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frek/pseuds/frek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sova/pseuds/sova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 2: Cuddling somewhere</p><p>The first time Derek brings Stiles to the dock, he doesn't speak much, just runs his fingers along the sun-warmed boards and soaks up the memories that flit through his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes of Summers Past

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second in a series of fics and art Sova and I will be making for the 30 day OTP challenge. As always, I will be writing and Sova is the artist. <3
> 
> Special thanks to [literaryoblivion](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) for her help in betaing this. ♥

Even after the house has been rebuilt, there aren't very many places left that carry happy memories of Derek's family. There's the Preserve, in all its vastness, and there's the dock at the lake: the lake that sits partially on the Hale property and the dock that his grandfather had originally built years before Derek was born. The dock holds memories for generations of Hales, now since passed, but Derek remembers enough for them all, keeping them alive in his thoughts and the stories he tells.

The first time Derek brings Stiles to the dock, he doesn't speak much, just runs his fingers along the sun-warmed boards and soaks up the memories that flit through his mind. Memories of a happy childhood spent running along the dock and jumping into the cool water, the laughter and squeals of his siblings as they jumped in and splashed around echoing in his ears. His grandfather, a human, loved to fish off the dock. He'd wander down just before dawn with his tackle box, pole, bait, and a mug of coffee. Sometimes Derek would join him, his young limbs straining to stay still in the imposed calm of the activity.

Derek doesn't bring anyone else to the dock. He doesn't want to share it just yet, though he knows the time will come when he will be willing to. For the moment, it's something he shares just with Stiles. They walk down after a long day of working on the house to dip their toes into the water and cool off. Sometimes Derek brings Stiles down to fish just like his grandfather had brought him. Stiles is a lot like Derek had been, unable to sit still, his feet and hands always moving, fingers tapping out a beat against the boards of the dock. It scares away the fish, but Derek doesn't mind, he enjoys just spending time with Stiles.

After the afternoon on the back porch, Derek finds that touch is the easiest way to settle Stiles. A hand moving gently along his arm or back is usually enough. Sometimes Derek needs to slide his hand into Stiles' to keep his fingers still, occupy them by threading their fingers together, palms pressed close. Something in the connection seems to calm him like nothing else. Stiles relaxes, his breathing settles, and Derek gets a few moments of peace. Sometimes even enough to get a bite on their line.

As spring gives way to summer, Derek spends more late afternoons at the dock. Sometimes Stiles joins him, sometimes he goes alone. The days that Stiles is there are his favorites. They sit and kick at the cool water, talking about whatever comes to mind, holding hands and leaning against each other, getting closer and closer each time. Sometimes Derek tells Stiles about his family, about his grandfather and his love of fishing. About splashing and playing in the water with his siblings. How his mother would sit on the dock and laugh at their antics, the love she felt for them evident in the way her eyes glittered with happiness as she watched them.

One afternoon, Stiles is late joining Derek. He sits at the end of the dock, jeans rolled up, elbows on his thighs as he leans forward and looks down into the water. The fish are swimming just below in the clear water, likely descendants of the same fish his grandfather used to pull from the lake. He thinks about the names carved into the board running along the dock beside him. About Laura and Olivia and Thomas and his mother and father. About Peter who'd ran off to who knows where. About everyone that he had spent time with on days like this who are no longer there. And then he thinks about the people who are. About Scott and Lydia and Isaac and Kira. About the pack that is slowly forming around the young Alpha. 

But mostly he thinks about Stiles. About the kid he had met just after Laura's death. Who had stared at him in open-mouthed awe that first afternoon. The teen who had challenged him, who had been unafraid of him even though he knew what he could do to him. Who had been there for him when no one else had. About the young man who had been there with him during the hardest parts of the rebuild, listening to him spill out his history and memories without question or judgement. Who had held onto his hand that day on the back deck during the rainstorm. Who has somehow become more important to him than anyone else alive. 

Derek isn't sure how long he sits there alone, only that at some point he hears the familiar footsteps on the path behind him. He smiles to himself as the sound of his footsteps change from the dull thud of the dirt path to the sharper sound of the wood dock, the gentle creak of the boards harmonizing with each step. Eventually they stop just behind him and Derek can hear Stiles' steady breathing, his quick, familiar heartbeat. He smiles wider and straightens up some, turning his head to glance up at Stiles, his face and body bathed in warm light.

"You're late," he says, motioning his head toward the warm reds in the sky from the late afternoon sun. 

Stiles shrugs as he lowers himself to the dock where he had stood. "Good things come to those who wait," he intones, a smirk playing on his lips as he scoots up close behind Derek.

"So you're saying you're a good thing?" Derek asks, eyebrow raised, though Stiles is too close to see his face anymore, his legs and arms already bracketing him in place, head resting comfortably between his shoulders.

"Of course, Derek," Stiles murmurs from where he rests, the smile evident in his voice. "The _best_."

Derek laughs, the sound more a rumble in his chest than anything. He looks out over the lake, relishing the closeness of Stiles behind him, warmth flooding his body from every point of contact between them. "You know what," he says, voice soft as he realizes that Stiles has somehow managed to weave himself right in with the happiest memories of his family. "You may be right."

**Author's Note:**

> Find us both on tumblr. :) [@frek](http://frek.tumblr.com) and [@geeky-sova](http://geeky-sova.tumblr.com).


End file.
